


The Place I Belong

by Yamiyoru



Series: I got you, Cochise. [1]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Algonquian Indian Folklore, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Cannibalism, Folklore, Gore, M/M, Mental issues?, Taboo, The way I like my stories to end, The way back home, Wendigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5549117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yamiyoru/pseuds/Yamiyoru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1 year (or more) has passed since Josh turned Wendigo and Chris went back to the mountain to look for his best pal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I’m in the Until Dawn hype now. Late but oh well, I never cared about trends. I like JoshXChris pairing a lot, even more so Wendigo JoshXChris. W.J. will tear Chris’s ass but who cares, I’m sick. 
> 
> I wish I know the language the Cree use so I can write it in because this is their folklore and I doubt the spirits speak in English. Even though I found a few words online, I don’t want to use their native language carelessly as well as I think it’s impolite to use a language you think you know when you don’t.
> 
> I do not own Until Dawn.

A long time has passed since any man last entered the mountain and when a group started coming up a few sun back, it makes the spirits restless. Their words hiss in the dark that the noisy men are back again but unlike the previous times, this new group does not wander into the mines. They linger only on the outside, in the safety of the Sun. It is unclear what they are doing here. They only know they are noisy, making sounds loud enough to resonate through the mines like roars of an earthquake. Despite the noise, it can hear the spirits whisper low and angry. 

_Kill them!_

At last light, the wendigo can finally leave the mines and it scan deep into the woods to find no one. The men come when the sun is up and leave before it goes down, letting the quiet returns and the hungry husky voices resume. Their words telling each other they need to hunt and it hunts. When the first cut lands, they stay silent, admire the wounds and bath in the metallic scent of the blood. They laugh at each weak whimpers as the fallen animal drags its bleeding limbs away. They will then doing nothing else but stalk the blood trail. The best moment to them is toying their prey. The weaken whines and cries are like aged cold wine, making the spirits sigh blissfully to the moon.

The spirits are sadistic predators and with plenty to go around, they often urge the last Wendigo to kill for sports than an actual need to eat but the Wendigo does not take time to torture its prey. It likes the meat fresh. To go in for the kill, sink its fangs into the throat, listen to the prey choke on its blood and feel the life leaks out from the spasming muscles gradually as the chunks of flesh are torn off and the bones making crunchy noises in its mouth. A tortured prey has a stench of death. Each act adds a layer, the peeling of skin is one, tearing of fingers and toes is another, leaving the prey smelling like a pile of decayed meat before the heart stops beating. It stinks and the Wendigo hates it, despise the lingering taste in each bite. If it can help it, a healthy target is the best and those that can be eaten alive, in a whole are its favorite.

This is the third moon since the earth started shaking and each time the Wendigo wanders into the forest, it can feel the effect of the men’s doing, even the trees are in unrest. They might have left tonight, plunging the woods in silence but the uneasiness radiating off the living is louder. The distress makes it easier for it to hunt. Perching itself on a trunk, it scans the woods for signs of life. If it is lucky, it might get a crow or squirrel. Jumping swiftly from branch to branch, it concentrates on any startled movement and chases down this tiny rabbit in the snow. It practically has the rabbit in its grasp when a breeze cuts their path and it stops short. In the wind, there is a fresh scent of a man. One of the men is still around and they quickly follow it to where it is the strongest.

The wind takes the hungry Wendigo to the edge of the opening and there in front is the cabin. However, the cabin seems different. It cannot look into the inside anymore. In its vision, it sees a block of earth with no spots to look inside. Carefully encircling the lodge, its ears pick up sounds coming from within but its milky eyes are blinded. The Wendigo senses movement of one remaining man but it does not try to get any closer, opting to scale the side of a tree at a good distance. 

The spirits are agitated but it ignores them. Man is not an easy prey and they know it. The spirits remember the pain of the small stream of sun from the previous hunter and how the other Wendigo died in the hands of the men. The last Wendigo cannot attack mindlessly. Sitting in the shadow, it observes the cabin. The option is to wait for the man to come out. 

Or lure it out. 

Snapping off a long branch, it throws the branch at the cabin. A clangour resounds, follows by a softer thud with the branch landing on the wooden planked floor. Now it just needs to wait for the man to investigate the sound. If the man comes out enough into the clearing, it can slash the head clean off. 

Shifting its posture, it leans down and prepares to leap. Waiting patiently, it watches. A click and something swings outwards, creating an opening and at last, movements it can see. A shadowy figure steps cautiously out through the hole. Pushing off and its claws ready, it throws itself at the man. 

Unfortunately, the branch it leapt off from broke, alerting the man to its location and reacting just as quickly, the man raises a long stick and seconds later, it feels an impact on its chest, throwing it off balance. As it pushes itself back upward for another jump, the man hits the wall beside him with a free hand. What follows is like the burn of the Sun and the Wendigo gives a piercing keen. Scrambling away, it jumps back onto the trees where the spirits believes is safe and away from the Sun. Making itself small, it snaps its head in the direction of the cabin and focus on its antagonist. Its skin is weaker now. Another shot will penetrate its defense.

However, instead of firing, the man lowers his weapon and walks out into the clearing in its direction. Growling lowly, it keeps its eyes on the man, warning him it will attack. It does not deter the man so it shall have to make its point. Using the tree as leverage, it aims its jump so it can slam into the man. Feeling the pressure build up in its limbs, it looks for an opening to launch itself and just then, the man makes a call that has the Wendigo pause. The man calls out again. 

Then again. 

The call the man is making is the same sound over and over. 

This sound… 

This voice…

They used to be so familiar. It almost understands what it all means when a creak snaps the Wendigo back to the man, who is now even closer, near enough for it to pick up the man’s scent in the still air. 

Just like the sound and the voice, this man smells like something it used to know very well. It is different from the men it ate when it started living in the mines. He is before them, way more ahead. The man’s scent angers it and each step the man takes forward, the Wendigo feels threatened and moves backward. At the same time, something else in his scent scares the Wendigo. 

Crouching down, it gives the man an enraged shriek and disappears into the woods. 

Hurrying through and back into the mines, it slashes at the wall as the spirits spill their rages. 

_That man with old hunter. Must kill._

_N-_

Any other day, he will heed their words and charge right out to kill the man but another quieter voice is pushing them away.

_The hunter is back._

_No._

Another voice he has not heard for so long.

_Kill him!_

_Shut….up…_

_KILL HIM!_

_NO._

The voice is getting clearer and clearer.

_SHUT UP!_

In that instant, the world is quiet once more and the Wendigo can think clearly. His human side that is supposedly buried is speaking to him again. He is telling him one thing and he understands why he was so frightened a second ago. 

‘It’s Chris. Don’t eat him.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do take a guess what is that one sound Chris was making.
> 
> P.S. If anyone knows how to use the font size tags, please let me know. I want to use it to make it look like the voices are getting softer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding oneself in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy 2016. Great way to start the year.
> 
> As seen from Hannah (if conditions are met), who chose to not attack Josh, Wendigo do have their humanity intact. It just needs to be awakened so I want to write the human side of W.J. I imagine the emotional state of a Wendigo to be stronger when it comes to anger.

One part of Josh was shaking at the fact he attacked his best pal while the other part was furious at Chris’s stupidity to stay in the mountain. He was lucky Chris was prepared enough to protect himself or it would have been Chris sitting in the depths of his stomach. 

Turning around, the upset Wendigo shrieked at the spirits, which were aggravating him with all their sweet seduction, urging him Chris would made a good meal. He then charged at anything that dared to try a second opinion. He snarled at the stone walls for not moving. He cut the metal cart for being…….rusty steel or something. He would not eat Chris and that was final. Never. Not with his humanity flooding back into him. 

What the hell was Chris doing back here?! Was the last attempt not enough to tell Chris to give up? 

He thought he had made it clear to his bestie and Sam that he was no longer human and now a monster. At the beginning, when he still had most of his human side intact, Josh knew those two tried coming up a few times. He could smell them off the chunks of meat left in front of the ski lodge and their intention was unknown. 

Was it to distract any remaining Wendigo from eating Josh? 

Was it desperate hope that Josh was still alive and by a million chances, crazy Josh found his way out of the mines, the meat would sustain for a while? 

Either way, they were too late because he already chewed off the head of an old man he found and later, attacked any officers that followed. It was time they both get the message _I’m no longer human. Enter and you die._ in blood paint. To achieve that, Josh went out, killed a few unfortunate Elk, dismembered them and decorated the destroyed lodge with the innards like he would to a Christmas tree. 

Sam stopped. 

Chris persisted. 

His best friend had a knack to be persistence in the wrong things, to still believe in him when it was obviously beyond hope. Fine, more aggressiveness then. Without remorse, and in fact, hardly any other emotions, Josh took Beth’s head, bit a part off and threw it onto the meat and it did the trick. Chris stopped coming up.

Alone in the mountain and Chris’s scent dampening, Josh allowed himself to give in completely to the spirit, to the Change and to live according to the spirits’ will. It was easier that way. Hunt, kill and eat. There was no more anger, sadness and fear to torment him. Josh Washington was dead. 

Was gone until tonight. Sniffing in the whole blow of Chris’s scent revived Human Josh and fighting with the spirit for control. His mind was a mess. One told him Chris was food while the other said not. 

Was Chris food? 

No. He was friend.

Yes, food but he stunk. 

_I don’t stink!_

_Oh~ You do, bro. Like rose. How’re you going to take a girl to the bone zone when you smell like a chick yourself? Perfume?_

_Shut up. It’s the softener. My mum does the laundry. She has all the say in this._

_Ok~ Spoilt kid._

_Oh yeah, says the person who has helpers in their house._

_Well, at least I don’t smell like a Disney Princess._

_Seriously, dude. Just shut up._

Chris used to smell like flowers every day and he hated it, loathed his best friend for smelling so clean and fresh whenever he stepped into his space. It was suffocating to have his bro in his car, instantly making it smell like an essence oil shop and he had to wind down the window. He hated how close, skin rubbing close Chris was with their bro-hugs but he could not go further, could not lean in more to take a deeper sniff of how Chris smelt under all that rose, jasmine or whatever. 

Compared to it all, Josh hated himself the most. His human side, gaining strength as dawn neared, had chosen this timing to remind him what he did; the one time he broke his own ‘No Homo’ rule and took advantage of Chris’s sympathy. He could never forgive himself for what he said the next morning, the words resounding clear as day and the hurt in Chris’s eyes burned into his memories. 

_‘Yeah, we’re cool, man. Nothing happened last night. I’m sorry again for your sisters.’_

_No. I’m sorry, my Cochise._

As the Sun rose and crawled over the mines, the spirits retreated even further into the mines while Josh stayed put near the entrance. For the first time, he did not fear the Sun. His human soul keeping the spirit at bay as his mind replay scenes of Chris, one after another. It was so long he felt this human again and when dusk returned, he would lose all of it once more, to go back being a monster capable of decapitating Chris with just his bare hands. Chris was not safe here and better off away from him.

 _Chris…_

His best pal’s name almost rolling off his tongue, lost, trapped and pushed into the deep with his soul as the spirit regained control. In his daze, he did not notice Chris visited.

The moon at its highest in the night sky, the Wendigo stepped out of the mine with a thirst for blood. Luckily for him, a newly dead crow was lying few feet away in the dirt. Hungry, it gulped it down in two bites and regretted it. The slight tinge of Chris on the feathers sliding down his throat gave his human side a jolt. His mind was originally overwhelmed by the spirits’ cries for a more challenging hunt, was now downplayed by a gripping terror-he ate Chris. 

_Oh! This’s bad! So bad!_

His human soul was panicking in his mind. He needed to stay away from Chris or he would only cause more damage. 

Yes, he would do that. 

He would _totally…_

…Did the exact opposite and found Chris sitting boldly in front of the cabin with a huge camp fire. Instinctively, he hissed, spat at the fire and jumped onto the nearest tree. He could feel the heat, the danger, even from this distance and this time, he stayed put. Chris did not move much either, simply turning to the direction of his best friend and then stillness. 

Nothing moved except the flame. Chris had camouflaged into the background.

Was Chris having a staring match with him? The Wendigo could not tell with these eyes. Useless motion sensor. 

Josh was about to snap but he halted when Chris broke the standoff with two syllables. It sounded choked like something was squeezing his throat and Josh squinted to confirm if that was the case. He was _so_ going to kill whatever was doing it and decided not to again when Chris followed up with a series of sounds. Yeah, sounds. He lost his ability to fully comprehend words since changing. There was no use for words. The only meaning to words was they led him to his food or to lure people out, which Chris would realize eventually. 

On the other hand, he would most likely keep silent if he could communicate verbally. A talking Wendigo was no good news. No reason to encourage Chris to stay either with a talking, still existing Josh…Right, what on earth was he doing? He should be away from Chris. Mustering his most innate talent and pouring all might into his best attempt to say, ‘Get the fuck off the mountain!’ which came out as a really long shriek and then, throwing another big branch at Chris, he disappeared into the woods.

Tonight was a failure. 

…

……

………

It continued being so for another week. 

Each Dusk started with Chris feeding him little door gifts. Josh would then binge himself full before he paid a house visit. It was a precaution to not attack Chris for something as simple as eating. Chris would always be sitting silently in front of the cabin with a fire. It was almost like Chris was waiting for him. 

At first, Josh would stay hidden in the trees. His human side would bark at him with the same shit; Chris really should go back to civilization and blah blah but the loneliness and sadness radiating off Chris, as he sat there, would made the Wendigo show himself. 

This Chris was different from the one he saw in his memories, so much more quieter and tired. Something was wrong with his friend and Josh wished he could understand what was but no, he could only settle with hanging off a tree and watch Chris sang. Well, except his honest opinion was a crow sang more beautifully than his friend, something that he would tell Chris right away when they were fourth grader, to talk about everything and nothing whenever Chris came over to his house. A mere vague memory now.

Each time, staying to the break of dawn, he was fingertip close to understanding the words, the tone, the emotions, his human part stretching out so much he could almost see how Chris looked like after two years. All lost in seconds and swallowed back down as Chris chose the same time to clam up, shut himself in, and Josh out of the cabin. The Wendigo would be locked outside, chased by the Sun back into the mines.

If anyone was around to see, they would see a Wendigo sulking at the cold mine walls like a kicked puppy. It was all too complicated to figure out. One minute Chris was cool and the next, he was not, worse than dealing with his sisters on certain days. Or no, it was harder as Chris was open. He was blunt. Indecisive at times but not afraid to let you know what he believes were right. But now? Withdrawn and clearly suicidal crazy to follow Josh on his hunt. He heard the human from a mile, stomping through the forest like a cave man, even a fat Elk was stealthier than that.

_Cochise, why are you being this difficult? Or you have a damn death wish?!_

Shortly, Chris emerged and oh my, the stench of dead meat was like Chris rolled in one week old Elk’s blood. Then, Chris threw a gunpowder smoked squirrel at the floor before the starving Wendigo. Really? 

Lowering to the ground, Josh growled at the small portion. He had not forgotten how he was treated last night, every night in fact, locked outside in the sun and he was pissy plus hungry. 

Regardless of Chris’s reason to stay here with a killer for so many nights in a row, be it insanity or not, he had enough. It was not every day he could keep the spirit contained. Chris’s agenda was too risky. He would make Chris leave once and for all, most importantly when tonight was the full moon; the spirits would be at their strongest. They were being really quiet recently and precisely that he had a vibe of an ulterior motive behind.

Tapping into the spirit’s rage and letting the inner beast slightly loose, he backed Chris up towards a tree and then, slammed Chris in the chest. Lightly. He really did but even after a good minute, Chris stayed on the ground with a hand clutching his chest. 

Did he use too much force? 

No matter. This should teach Chris to go down the mountain tomorrow. Leaving his friend on the forest floor, wheezing slightly, the Wendigo withdrew to search for a good hunt to wash down the smell of rotten meat.

After a hearty chunk off one deer and another from the throat of a wolf, Josh paused at the wheezing the wolf was making as it struggled to breathe with its torn wind pipe and he dropped it. Chris was wheezing too, which did not sound good to him now. Did he fracture Chris’s ribs? He was a Wendigo after all, his ‘gently’ might be a hard blow to a human and especially Chris, whose reflexes were like a kitten and body made of Styrofoam. He should check on the human. 

Chris was gone from where he left him and at the cabin, he did not see hide nor hair of the human. The door was left open and he moved quietly up the stairs easily. The fire was not lit, neither were the lights, which struck the Wendigo as strange. Why would Chris leave his safe zone so unguarded? He peered into the cabin and there was no movement but he could faintly smell Chris; the same dying mammal cologne. Maybe Chris finally understood Josh Wendigo was dangerous and was hiding in a corner until he left. 

Good. One lesser problem tomorrow. 

Maneuvering his four limbs out towards the door, his longer limb caught into something and he stumbled a bit, a hiss stuck in his throat when he realized right away it was Chris from the smell. Chris was lying on his side, trying hard to breathe. His breath getting shallower and slower as Josh focused intensely on the slight movement of Chris’s chest. His mind was a blank as the haze set in again. His human voice clawing at the seam of his consciousness so it could speak, scratching at the spirits telling him to change his friend. 

_Chris is dying._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliffhanger is how I’m ending this like any proper horror. It’s a happy ending….(in the next part of the series.)

**Author's Note:**

> Josh's POV. Want to try writing how a Wendigo thinks and behaves. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and please comment so I know what I am doing wrong. 
> 
> The reason I used strong light bulbs, like artificial sunlight bulbs or sulfur lamp was my guess that since wendigo is weak to fire, technically, they will be weak to the Sun for two reasons. One – the Sun is a huge fireball. Second – The game is called Until _Dawn_ aka, the Sun.
> 
> If it’s mentioned anywhere in the game that they are weak towards the sun and light, let me know because as usual, I have the attention span of a goldfish and skimmed every shit.


End file.
